"Irene no Céu" by Manuel Bandeira (in Portuguese)

Irene preta

Irene boa

Irene sempre de bom humor.

Imagino Irene entrando no céu:

- Licença, meu branco!

E São Pedro bonachão:

- Entra, Irene. Você não precisa pedir licença

"A Prayer" by Lord Alfred Douglas (in English)

Often the western wind has sung to me,

There have been voices in the streams and meres,

And pitiful trees have told me, God, of Thee :

And I heard not. Oh ! open Thou mine ears.

The reeds have whispered low as I passed by,

' Be strong, O friend, be strong, put off vain fears,

Vex not they soul with doubts, God cannot lie ' :

And I heard not. Oh ! open Thou mine ears.

There have been many stars to guide my feet,

Often the delicate moon, hearing my sighs,

Has rent the clouds and shown a silver street;

And I saw not. Oh ! open Thou mine eyes.

Angels have beckoned me unceasingly,

And walked with me ; and from the sombre skies

Dear Christ Himself has stretched out hands to me ;

And I saw not. Oh ! open Thou mine eyes.

Ismália by Alphonsus de Guimaraens (in Portuguese)

            Quando Ismália enlouqueceu,

            Pôs-se na torre a sonhar...

            Viu uma lua no céu,

            Viu outra lua no mar.

            No sonho em que se perdeu,

            Banhou-se toda em luar...

            Queria subir ao céu,

            Queria descer ao mar...

            E, no desvario seu,

            Na torre pôs-se a cantar...

            Estava perto do céu,

            Estava longe do mar...

            E como um anjo pendeu

            As asas para voar...

            Queria a lua do céu,

            Queria a lua do mar...

            As asas que Deus lhe deu

            Ruflaram de par em par...

            Sua alma subiu ao céu,

            Seu corpo desceu ao mar...

"Villancico" by St. Therese of Avila (in Spanish)

Vivo sin vivir en mí

y tan alta vida espero

que muero porque no muero.

Vivo ya fuera de mí,

después que muero de amor,

porque vivo en el Señor,

que me quiso para sí;

cuando el corazón le di

puso en mí este letrero:

«Que muero porque no muero».

Esta divina unión,

y el amor con que yo vivo,

hace a mi Dios mi cautivo

y libre mi corazón;

y causa en mí tal pasión

ver a mi Dios prisionero,

que muero porque no muero.

¡Ay, qué larga es esta vida!

¡Qué duros estos destierros,

esta cárcel y estos hierros

en que está el alma metida!

Sólo esperar la salida

me causa un dolor tan fiero,

que muero porque no muero.

Acaba ya de dejarme,

vida, no me seas molesta;

porque muriendo, ¿qué resta,

sino vivir y gozarme?

No dejes de consolarme,

muerte, que ansí te requiero:

que muero porque no muero.

First Sonnet by William Shakespeare (in English)

From fairest creatures we desire increase,

That thereby beauty's rose might never die,

But as the riper should by time decease,

His tender heir might bear his memory:

But thou contracted to thine own bright eyes,

Feed'st thy light's flame with self-substantial fuel,

Making a famine where abundance lies,

Thy self thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel:

Thou that art now the world's fresh ornament,

And only herald to the gaudy spring,

Within thine own bud buriest thy content,

And, tender churl, mak'st waste in niggarding:

   Pity the world, or else this glutton be,

   To eat the world's due, by the grave and thee.

"Flores" by Stecchetti (in Portuguese)

Translated by Sergio Milliet.

Quando as folhas caírem, e tu fores

Procurar minha cruz no campo santo,

Hás de encontrá-la, meu amor, num canto,

Circundada de flores.

Colhe então para os teus loiros cabelos

Cada flor que do meu peito florisse!

Sao versos que pensei, sem escrevê-los,

São palavras de amor que não te disse...

"The Mock Mikado Strikes" by Unknown Writer (in English)

All Winners Vol 1 #6 - Fall, 1942 - Timely.